


Glottal Stop

by winterwhite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, M/M, cultural issues idk, entitlement issues, soft racism, veiled harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:13:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwhite/pseuds/winterwhite
Summary: Gabriel hides in Spanish. It backfires.





	

Gabriel tosses bits of Spanish off the back of Morrison's head. 

At first he does it because he's just come from home, and the lively little hotbed, the fusion of cultures, the sketch and parcel of what he is, is suddenly lost. People look at him and they expect words like English, but arranged differently, out of his mouth because of the darkness of his skin and the shape of his lips, and a quick sneering line of Spanish makes them blink. Or they stereotype him going the other way. Or they just look past him at someone they expect to see, like Morrison, who's fresh and new and shiny, bright and blond in SEP. 

"So is that like 'bitch' or something?" Morrison asks casually.

"Hunh?" 

"Like 'Toto.'" 

"No, I'm calling you dumb," Reyes snaps back. It's mostly the pain talking. If Morrison had shut both straps, one of them wouldn't have whipped over and got him in the eye. 

He hears Morrison say later "I guess he called me a baboon or something" and later, he forgets the sounds, blinks at the syllables bouncing out of Reyes' mouth and grins like they're funny, nonsense, like a dog that's learned a trick.

 **

Morrison never bothers to listen to him. Not even when they graduate the SEP. Even words he should know, like _idiota._ There's just a harmless little grin, or a casual "what's that mean?" 

Morrison thinks he's fair, he thinks appearances don't matter to him, but it's like he's fucking entitled to have everything explained like he wants to hear it. He's startled the first time he finds Reyes playing the guitar although even his dumb whitebread ass should recognise _mariachi._

It's hurtful although in all other ways, Jack is... good. The sunlight loves his skin, how is he not tan as hell, and his eyes are like the sky in the morning and his hair always looks so fucking soft even when it's sculpted. He looks at Gabriel seriously, and takes him seriously, and every time Gabriel talks in English he's right there with him. 

He just won't listen. He's shocked every time Reyes sees what has to be done, and tells him. Eventually, he begins to notice it's a lot easier just working around Jack. Jack is oblivious when he wants to be, and an unarmed body between two armed ones doesn't even rate a second look.

Gabriel tries to keep his mind on business, and on work, but sometimes in battle when Morrison is moving in perfect synchrony he forgets and calls something and has to call it twice, because Morrison's damned entitled ass expects English. 

Morrison has started looking at him differently, long, slow stares. 

**

Gabriel starts fucking with him in self-defense. 

It starts out vicious, casual: _don't pretend you don't want everyone staring at that ass of yours_ and _shut up,_ _you'd be more use right now on your knees_ and... drifts. He can get anything by if he keeps his voice light, or if he just tosses it into the conversation like an old saying he picked up, although nobody ever said _you know what, you should have your boots on my shoulders right now_  or _that mouth of yours was made for my dick_ or _I've been wondering, are you a scratcher or a biter?_ like that in his hearing. 

Jack never fucking notices. His eyes don't quite glaze over when Reyes starts speaking Spanish, but he just kind of waits for Reyes to get back to him. 

**

Jack's voice is different when he talks to him, and he stands closer. It's hell. Reyes waits for him to wear out the damn puppy crush. Saddled with this for months and now Morrison wants to go somewhere else. 

His frustration makes him nearly slip. One time he nearly does it in front of Garcias. One time he does it on tape, and has to go back and just scratch the recording a  _tiny_ bit before handing it in. 

Jack is draped into the hood of their transport, fixing a leak in its guts. 

"Hey, want to get lunch after this?" 

" _Look at you, almost at the right angle, just get on your toes a little more,_ " Reyes says. "No." 

"God, you talk a lot." 

**

The Amaris are a fucking adorable couple. Ana sharp and vicious, her husband soft and slow-voiced and strong. He's not her spotter, she doesn't use one after she gets her cybernetic eye. He's in intelligence work, desk job, hacking, decrypting, assessing. 

Reyes listens carefully when Mr. Amari talks about his Pacific Northwest tribe, their scattered numbers, their diminished population, his love of the language. Amari and he have smashed together love into their very own dialect, and when he listens he can hear two different continents dancing together, brushing each other's ears and kissing softly. 

The states where Spanish flow easily aren't far from Indiana, just a couple worlds and the vast space between Morrison's ears.

Jack tries to kiss him early in the morning on the practice grounds, and  _God_ his fucking face, the way he leans, the way his fingers kind of skitter over Gabriel's ribs before he decides he's about to be punched and he'll make the most of that little moment before. The softness of lip on lip, he wasn't expecting Jack to be so tentative, so vulnerable, blue eyes wide. Gabriel grabs him (he means to be rough but Jack's hair is as fine and soft as he expected under his fingertips, and the granted wish makes his hands respectful) and kisses him like he can press knowledge into his mouth.

Then he shoves him off and leaves.  

The Amaris sit decently across the table, eat decorously, do not feed each other beyond Ana passing her husband a juice box and him giving her the pear off his tray. She thanks him with a soft roll of Arabic, and he answers in the same language. She bites it, flickers her lashes in appreciation, and assures him it's good in his own tribe's tongue.

Gabriel is jealous as hell. 

**

"You can't love someone until you understand them," Mr. Amari is telling Jack when he enters the room. 

"Sorry about your long time stuck wishing you were doing something, Jack," Gabriel says. "I'll be back when shit's pacified. Have fun hugging a battlefield to death," he adds to Mr. Amari, who blinks. It's rude, but so's being so honest and happy right in Reyes' face, to hell with him.

**

He's back when shit's pacified. The Amaris are leaving. He is now stuck on the base waiting with Jack. They have at least another empty month ahead of them. 

"Hey," Jack says.

"Hey," Gabriel says. 

"Welcome back." There's something new, something tentative, like Jack has a gift he's trying to figure out how to give. Gabriel doesn't want anything from him, anything but some goddamn acceptance. So he gives a short nod and turns away. Jack hovers, so Gabriel ignores him more deliberately until Jack leaves. 

He rounds up everyone who he outranks and runs through exercises to make them all miserable, things that fix what he saw going wrong on his mission, things he brought up in his report but, as usual, he doesn't know if anyone's fucking  _listening_ but the people he has the power to make regret the day they were born. 

He's so tired when Jack Morrison and his fucking supermodel face and Captain America body come into the rec room late at night. Gabriel has had a shower and he's winding down for bed with some telenovas and now he has to deal with his white ass.  He hits pause. 

"I read the report," Jack says. "It sounds like everything went well." 

"Did it." 

"I mean, no casualties. I can see you were worried about who we're sending out." 

"Training saves lives," Gabriel says wearily. Jack settles down on the couch, moving slowly, face so fucking perfect. Gabriel reaches up to his new scar. Drops his hand before it gets there. 

"Sorry about that," Jack says, frowning at it. 

"Matching set," Gabriel shrugs. "I was thinking about having the docs add one to that side anyway." It's the set of Jack's lips that does it, and he doesn't even remember what he says later, just a quick and coarse comment. He forgets, because Jack's look is blank and friendly until two seconds later: 

Jack flushes absolutely crimson, face, neck, and ears. 

Oh. Shit. That means a lot. It means everything. Gabriel can feel his face burn as well. 

For a minute they are just sitting in an exposed and awkward world. Jack recovers first, with a nervous, high little laugh, and then he's back in control and: "Really? Cause I never would have known, the way you shoved me and ran off." Gabriel, who has been understood, puts his face in his hands. "Oh my god." 

"You learned Spanish." 

"I'm not fluent or anything, and it can take a minute, but I can say hello and... uh... I've been watching movies with the subtitles on..." 

"You've been learning Spanish off what, now?" 

"Mostly your recordings," Jack says evenly, pointing at the screen, and Gabriel can feel his flush deepen because some of those telenovas got pretty fucking steamy and Jack does indeed know exactly what he said. "Am I still blushing? Because you're still blushing." 

"Shut up, you can't tell." 

"The hell I can't." Jack beams. "Wait - how long have you been doing that? Wait - you never did it around -" Gabriel rubs the bridge of his nose while Jack deduces. "Hey Gabriel, that's kind of inappropriate." Gabriel answers in gutter Spanish without thinking, and Jack snorts. Gets up. Grabs his wrist. Tugs. "That's it. Come put your money where your mouth is." 

**

Gabriel half-wakes because there's light in the room. He lunges. He slaps the datapad down. "Oh, no. You are not looking that up." 

"I got the  _quiero_ part, it's just that last little bit." 

His pronunciation is atrocious. They'll work on it. Gabriel stays where he landed for the pleasure of Jack's shoulder under his chin. "I said no." 

"Fine, but I want to hear it again later." Jack's grin brings back the blush. "And like you mean it." 

"...fine." 

**

"I don't know," Mr. Amari (he's Jack's friend, not Gabriel's, and they stay formal) is saying to Jack as Gabriel steps into the doorway behind him. "Are you sure he's all right? He seems a lot quieter nowadays." 

Jack looks up. "He's fine," he says, and grins meaningfully.

Gabriel blushes. He never used to blush this much, but he's also not used to feeling this... stripped. He walks back out before Amari sees him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I FORGOT
> 
> The first thing he said was "bobo" which is not a nice thing to say, but pretty light if your partner accidentally booby-traps your equipment.


End file.
